The Book
by Boktai
Summary: The beginning of a slightly different storyline.


Chapter 2

A new land

Pinpoints of light danced in front of his eyes. Marchereached out to touch them, but they always seemed to be right outside his reach. So strange... suddenly the lights went out and was replaced by the strangest face Marche had ever seen. Marche yelped and banged his head on the wall behind him. The strange being chuckled. "Now don't go and bang your head up. You've been resting so wonderfully." Marche had millions of questions clamoring in his head to be answered, but he chose only a few and started rather impatiently. "Who and what are you?" This time the eyebrows wrinkled together. "You don't know? Well, I guess that bump did more that raise a lump. I am Tai Nug, a Nu Mhou." Marche licked his lips nervously. "Is that what everyone is here?" "No, dear child, the Nu Mhou is just one race of people here. There are five in total. There are humans, that's you; ther are Bangaa, they are lizard-like people who can take a beating and still want more. There are moogles, mischievous little fellows always playing with some gadget;Nu Mhou like me who are very adept in magic, and Viera: beautiful creatures, but very dangerous." Tai Nug sat back and started humming to herself. Marche shook his head and tiny explosions of pain went off inside his mind. Biting his lip to keep from gasping, Marche asked the strange being, "How did I get here?" Tai Nug shook her head balefully. "You don't remember a thing, do you, dear? Well, I was coming back from the market and found you lying in the middle of the road! I couldn't just leave you there, so I took you home with me. You've been out for a few hours." Tai Nug looked at a clock on the wall and jumped. "Oh, dearie me!" she cried out, " I forgot I'm going to have company over. Hurry up and eat this." Tai Nug reached for a bowl on a table beside Marche's bed. In it was a thick stew. Marche spent several minutes downing the good meal. As soon as he was finished, Tai Nug whisked away the bowl and dragged Marche out of the bed. To his relief Marche saw that he could stand and walk with no pain. Tai Nug pressed on. "Put on your shoes, take a right and go all the way down the hall into the kitchen. Take the pack on the table with you. Good luck!" Tai Nug had already exited the room, intent on a last minute cleaning. A thoroughly surprised Marche followed the good Nu Mhou's directions and went down the hall. It was immediately apparent that Marche's nose could do a better job leading Marche to the kitchen than Tai Nug's instructions. The stew that Marche had eaten was simmering in a cauldron over a fire. Salad, bread, cheese, wine, and a pie were sitting on the table, nearly obscuring from view a small knapsack full of traveler's victuals. Marche took up the pack and headed out the door. Outside the sun was beating down a dusty path wind through a small garden to the gate. Beyond the gate was a dirt road leading out of a cul-de-sac of houses much like Tai Nug's. No one were about when Marche started off, but along the dirt road the frequency of meeting inhabitants of this new place grew steadily. Marche climbed a hill and what he saw took his breath away. A small town sprawled out in the basin of the valley, with people going about their business. Far off in the distance Marche could see the spires of a castle nestled in the distant mountains. Determining to find out more information on this new place, Marche hikedinto town. All the denizens that Tai Nug had described were congregating in the streets and around stalls hawking everything from bhoru fruit to chocobo saddles. Gil was frequently exchanging hands, and the feeling ofa party atmosphere permeated the air. Marche walked along through the bustling crowd, taking in the sights and looking for anything helpful. He soon came upon a small bar called the Flying Tankard. Marche stepped in and looked around. Tables were scattered all across the floor, complete with tablecloths and mugs. The varied clientele were gathered in groups, discussing clan business over mead. Marche moved over to an empty table and ordered plain water. Next to him was a table of bangaas, laughing raucously and making no attempt to keep their voices down. One bangaa was telling his comrades: "I'll tell ye what, me buddies, bangaas are the best creatures ye'll ever run inter. Nu Mhou 're pushovers, Moogles play too much, Vieras' heads 're empty, and humans 're thick as planks, twice as dull, and three times as weak!" Marche muttered a bit too loudly, "There's nothing more gracious than a bangaa!" The bangaa turned around and hissed at Marche, "You makin' fun o' me, human?" Marche smiled benignly. "No, not at all, just a common truth which seemed to disregard you." The bangaa flung himself up and roared, "You pa-tro-ni-zing me, human!" At that, the entire room went silent and stared at Marche and the furious bangaa. Marche tutted. "Stress shortens your life, you know." Several of the surrounding people chuckled at that, which caused the bangaa to lose it completely. Before Marche knew it, a huge, gauntleted fist was soaring through the air straight for his face.

To be continued...


End file.
